


A Long Day Coming (and Long Will It Last)

by Verasteine



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e22 Ua Hopu (Caught), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny takes Steve home after making sure Wo Fat is locked up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Day Coming (and Long Will It Last)

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the unoriginality of this one, but I couldn't resist. I'm indebted to [](http://eumelia.livejournal.com/profile)[**eumelia**](http://eumelia.livejournal.com/) and [](http://tailoredshirt.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://tailoredshirt.livejournal.com/)**tailoredshirt** for the beta.

It's nearly morning when Danny hears Steve's footsteps squeak across the polished floors of HQ.

"Hey, Danny."

Danny carefully caps his pen and puts it down on top of the stack before standing. "That all you have to say to me, Steve?"

Steve runs a hand over his face. "Look, I know, okay, we need to talk, whatever. I just got yelled at by the governor, I can't remember the last time I saw a bed, and in case you hadn't noticed, it's been a rough day. Can we save it till tomorrow?"

Danny peers at the assorted bruises on Steve's face and imagines there are more where those came from. Truth is, he has no clue what has happened to Steve before he called, and not much of an idea about what happened after, either. "Okay," he says slowly. "I'll take you home."

"Thanks." Steve rubs a hand over his jaw again. "I think my truck is still in the airport parking lot."

"No, it's in HPD impound, where we had it towed for forensics. Don't give me that look, Steve, what the fuck were we supposed to do?"

Steve shakes his head, holds up a hand. "Okay, okay."

"Let's go," Danny says, and steers him towards the exit with a hand on his shoulder.

\--

When he pulls up at the house, Steve levers himself out of the car slowly, grabbing his bag from the backseat and making his way up to the front door. Danny follows, not sure if Steve isn't about to keel over from unseen damage or just sheer exhaustion. As Steve unlocks the door, he glances over his shoulder. "I'm fine, D."

Danny snorts. "No one believes that but yourself."

Steve frowns but doesn't comment. He flips the light switch as he steps across the threshold, and Danny nearly bumps into him when Steve freezes on the spot with hand on his gun. "Someone's been in here."

"Yeah, me, genius." Danny pokes him. "Relax, will you?"

Steve breathes out slowly, taking his hand off his weapon and dropping the bag by the door. "Why were you in here?"

"Are you demented?"

"Okay." Steve takes another look around the room. "I'm fine, Danny, really. You can go."

"I'll be the judge of that. Come on, up to bed with you." He pokes Steve again for good measure, and Steve twists out of the way but nods, trudging to the stairs and dragging himself into the bathroom. Danny follows to make sure he doesn't fall over and hurt himself, then sits on the edge of the bed and listens to the water run.

Steve's home.

He buries his face in his hands for a moment, because Steve isn't here to see, and Danny can take a few deep, fortifying breaths so he can deal with the idiot. It seems almost surreal, after the day, weeks they've had, but Steve's here and he's mostly in one piece and Danny can own up to the fact that he's been terrified this moment wasn't coming.

He looks around the room, the neat sheets on the bed, nothing out of place because no one has been here in a while. He could go, after he's made sure Steve isn't going to do something insane, or he could make it as far as the couch downstairs. It's a tempting thought, staying so he knows Steve will be there in the morning.

He pauses. The shower's still running in the other room, the sound of the water hitting tiles unchanged, and Danny stands without thinking, goes to the bathroom and knocks on the door. "Steve?" No sound on the other side. "Steve? Okay, buddy, I'm coming in."

He opens the door to find Steve in the shower, standing there, eyes shut as the water drenches him. His hair is plastered to his head, and he sort of wavers but keeps standing, arms wrapped around himself.

"Idiot," Danny mutters under his breath, and reaches in to grab Steve's shoulder. "Hey, buddy, wake up, come on."

Steve blinks his eyes open, splutters as water hits him in the face, and Danny pulls him out of the shower stall, reaches past him to shut the water off.

"What were you going to do, drown yourself like a helpless kitten?" Danny grabs a towel and puts it around Steve, who stands there, shivering a little. "Hey, are you with me?"

"Huh?"

Danny rubs the towel over Steve's head until his hair stands up in damp wisps, then pokes him again. "Dry yourself off, Steven."

Steve makes a stab at doing as he's told, rubbing the terry cloth over his arms. Danny swallows as he notices blotches of colour on Steve's skin, the bruises that are indeed everywhere, some deep, others mild, but Steve's clearly been through the wringer. He pushes it away.

"When's the last time you ate something? Drank something?" he demands. "Do I need to feed you before you die of starvation or dehydration? Steven?"

Steve blinks some more. "I... sometime... can't remember, Danno."

Steve's eyes are already falling shut again, refusing to stay open of their own accord. Danny's not going to get straight answers from him, not tonight. He sighs and goes to the sink to pour a glass of cool water, finds the Tylenol in the medicine cabinet, and hands Steve two tablets. "Take this, drink that."

Steve nods. "Okay, Danno."

"You're adorable," Danny mutters. He watches carefully to make sure Steve finishes the whole glass, then simply takes him by the arm and leads him to the bedroom. Steve catches sight of the bed and makes a beeline for it, curling up on it.

" _Under_ the covers, Steve." Danny tugs at the duvet until Steve shifts with a protesting sound, and then folds it over him. "You'll die of hypothermia next, seriously."

Steve curls in on himself, covers tucked around him, and Danny watches him. He should go downstairs at the very least, but he feels rooted to the spot, unable to tear himself away. Steve cracks open one eye, looks directly at him and mumbles, "Missed you, Danny."

"You are going to be the death of me," Danny replies, but he knows he can't turn around anymore, head back down to sleep on the couch. This is unknown territory for them, and Steve might seriously hate him in the morning, but Danny strips down to his boxers and slides in next to him.

Steve turns over, shifts closer and buries his cold, damp nose against Danny's arm.

Okay, so maybe Steve won't hate him in the morning. Danny puts a careful arm around Steve's shoulders, and Steve makes a satisfied sound, tucking himself against Danny's side.

"Rest, babe," Danny says softly. "I'll keep an eye out."

Steve's smile slides off his face as he drifts to sleep.

\--

When Danny wakes, it's to the sound of Steve's pained groan. He blinks against the light to find Steve attempting to sit up. "Babe?"

"'m good, Danny," Steve says, not even looking at him, shifting up to lean against the headboard.

"Yeah, you look it," Danny shoots back. "Stiff?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to you?"

Steve attempts to look at him, has to twist his whole torso in order to meet Danny's eyes. "I crashed the plane."

Danny's pulse shoots up in spite of Steve being in front of him, alive and mostly in one piece. "What the hell?"

"The pilot got shot." Steve settles back against the headboard. "They must have bribed the co-pilot, and there was a fight, I tried, but... the plane was mostly intact when I landed it."

"Landed?" Danny says. "Landed?! Two seconds ago you're telling me you _crashed_ it."

Steve drags himself incrementally more into a sitting position, breathing hard as he does. Danny watches him, then gets up out of bed and pads to the bathroom for more Tylenol and water. When he returns, Steve has managed to sit up completely. Danny wordlessly hands him the drugs.

"Thanks, D."

Danny sits on the edge of the bed. "Yeah."

"What happened to your face?"

"Huh?" Danny brings his hand up automatically, and winces when his fingers come into contact with his right cheek. "Oh. Nothing. Just had a run in with some people who didn't like you."

Steve frowns, begins to open his mouth, but Danny cuts him off.

"You should shower, or you'll never be able to move today."

"Yeah." Steve runs a hand over his hair and shifts his legs out from under the covers. Danny stands to give him room and watches as Steve stiffly shuffles into the bathroom, looking away when he realises Steve is completely naked.

Once the door is securely closed, he yells out, "Stay in there longer than three minutes, Steve, or it won't work!"

"Shut up!" Steve yells back.

With a grin, Danny heads downstairs to start the coffee, digs bread out of the freezer and pops it into the toaster, and opens the fridge to find the butter.

The fridge is depressingly empty, because Steve is an idiot who clears out his perishables before he leaves town for an extended manhunt to god knows where. The only thing Danny finds lurking at the back is a jar of pickles and some grapefruit jelly.

Bypassing the pickles, he pulls out the jelly and sets it on the kitchen counter, finds plates to put the toast on, and digs out a knife to spread the brightly coloured condiment onto the bread. "Waste of good toast, Steven. Fucked in the head."

He pours two mugs of coffee and stirs cream into Steve's until it's the right colour. When he turns around to put the mugs on the table, he nearly drops them.

Steve is standing in the doorway, looking at him, a smile playing around his lips. "I missed you, Danny."

Danny puts the mugs down, moves the plates to the table, and sucks in necessary air. "You asshole. You motherfucker. Do you know how much I hate you right now? Do you?"

Steve's face goes expressionless.

For a moment, it makes Danny's heart clench in his chest, but his anger wins out. "You gave me nightmares, asshole. Running off to god knows where, what if you'd died, huh, Steve, I wouldn't even have known where the _fuck_ to look for you!"

Steve doesn't look away, also doesn't speak. That's good, because Danny isn't done yet.

"I get," he says slowly, pointing at Steve, "that this was important to you. I also get that maybe you weren't socialised right. But if you _ever_ fucking do something like that again, I will find you, and I will drag you back, and _then_ I will kill you. Slowly."

They're silent for a few seconds, and then Steve swallows. "I'm sorry, Danny."

Danny needed to hear that, but it isn't enough. "Eat your breakfast," he says instead, and points at the table. Steve sits, stiffly, stirs his coffee before taking a sip. He opens his mouth to speak, but Danny cuts him off. "Nuh uh. Eat."

Steve picks up a slice of toast and chews on it. Danny follows his example, then makes a face. "Grapefruit jelly? Really, Steve?"

Steve smiles, pointedly not speaking.

"Yeah, I know, you like it. But seriously, Steve, normal people have strawberry jam. Or maybe blueberry. But a berry flavour."

Steve finishes his coffee, puts the mug down carefully, and says, "I had to, Danny. I know you don't understand and I'm sorry. But I had to."

Danny looks at him, at the bruises and cuts still on his face, the ones from a fucking plane crash, and feels his heart turn over. "I know. But you can't do this to me, okay? You can't do it to your friends."

Steve swallows, glances at the table before looking back up at Danny. He seems a little lost. Finally, he replies, "Is that all you are, Danny? My friend?"

Danny puts his coffee mug down. "I don't know. I thought maybe I wasn't, but then you did this."

Steve meets his eyes. "I'm home now."

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. "Yeah, but when are you going to run again?"

"I wasn't running."

Danny nods. "Okay, I know."

Steve reaches out and puts his hand over Danny's, and the warm touch of his fingers makes something uncoil in Danny's stomach, makes him want to wrap Steve up and not let him go again. "Please," Steve says.

"This is crazy," Danny protests, but hears the weakness of the argument in his own voice. "You're crazy. We're crazy."

Steve smiles, softly. "Danny--"

"How are we going to do this? What are we going to do--"

Steve cuts him off. "I can do normal. I'll buy strawberry jam, Danny."

Danny can't help himself. "And butter."

Steve blinks. "Okay, you can come shopping with me."

"Jesus," Danny replies. He turns his hand over to slot his fingers through Steve's, and then he pulls, tugging Steve closer until Steve leans in. He bridges the final gap to press his mouth to Steve's, dry lips opening up under his touch, and he tastes grapefruit jelly.

"Danny," Steve says against his mouth, " _Danny_."

He pulls back and takes a look at Steve's face, his eyes half-lidded, the bruises creating stark contrast. He reaches out to run his fingers over the edge of the mark on Steve's forehead, watches as Steve closes his eyes. "Babe?"

Steve blinks.

"You still with me?"

"Yes." Steve leans in, kisses him, and this time there's no gentle testing the waters, only intent. Danny opens his mouth to him easily, slides his fingers into Steve's hair and tries to navigate around the bruises there.

It's awkward, leaning around the table, so Danny pulls back and smiles at Steve. "Would you like to come back upstairs with me? Or is that too presumptuous for the moment?"

Steve grins. "No."

They both stand, and Steve leads the way, tossing a glance over his shoulder. Danny can't stop himself grinning back at him, can't stop himself from putting a hand on Steve's back, and he feels Steve start under his touch, lets Steve lead them to the bedroom.

"Steve," Danny says, reaching out to pull Steve's shirt up over his head, and Steve makes a sound but cooperates. The bruises are starkly visible, mottled across Steve's chest, and Danny puts his mouth to them, gently, feels Steve's hand land in his hair.

"I'm okay, Danny."

"No, you are not." Danny pushes him back gently until Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, and Danny kneels in front of him to continue his exploration. Steve tugs at his shirt, sneaks fingers under the fabric, and Danny smiles. "Eager, huh?"

"I've been thinking about you."

"Oh yeah?" Danny pulls back to look at him, catches the bashful twinkle in Steve's eye, and kisses him full on the mouth. "You."

"Yeah."

"Hmm."

Danny pulls back, and Steve stops him, hand on his chin. He leans in slowly and presses his lips to the bruise on Danny's face. "This was because of me?"

"You and my sparkling personality." He isn't about to tell Steve the full story. "You know I like to piss people off, it's like a hobby."

"Don't," Steve replies, and he looks serious for a moment.

"What, you want me to be exclusive, now?"

Steve's voice is low when he replies. " _Yes_."

"Okay, okay, you've got me." Danny kisses him again. "You've got me, babe."

Steve slides his hand fully under Danny's shirt, and he's reminded of where they are and what they're doing, and he yanks Steve closer. "Shit, Danny," Steve says, before kissing him back, one hand in Danny's hair, the other creeping down into Danny's waistband.

Danny pushes him back until Steve's lying down facing him, shifts them around until they can lie properly on the bed, and Steve pulls him in with an impatient sound. "Are you always--" Danny sucks in some air "--going to be like this? Huh?"

Steve just grins. "You love it."

"Yeah, okay," Danny admits, sliding his hand down Steve's back and onto his ass just so he can watch Steve's eyes widen. "I do."

Steve holds his breath for a second, then closes his eyes and groans. "God, Danny, _touch_ me."

Danny cups him in his palm, feels how hard Steve is, straining against his boxers. "Like this, babe?"

" _Danny_." Steve is panting, eyes half lidded, blissed out and beautiful. Danny liberates him, gets his hands on Steve for the first time, marvels at soft skin.

"Do you have any idea," Danny says, slowly moving his hand up and down, "how beautiful you are right now?"

Steve stares at him, lost and confused, and Danny smiles, kisses him as he keeps his hand moving steadily, drinks in the sounds Steve is making. When Steve comes, he buries his face against Danny's shoulder, body tense as he tries to catch his breath.

When he finally relaxes, Danny carefully tugs him away. "Hey, you falling asleep on me?"

Steve makes a comical face. "Ow."

Danny laughs. "I'll get you some Tylenol." He moves to get up, but Steve pulls him back.

"Later, Danny."

"Yeah?"

Steve smiles, pulls him in for a kiss, and Danny doesn't object in the slightest, doesn't object either when Steve pushes at his clothes. Danny strips them off, settles back on the bed, Steve's hands on his chest. "I missed you, Danny."

"Next time, call, and we'll do this over the phone." Steve bites him in retaliation for that comment, making Danny yelp indignantly. "Be glad you're injured, or I would be exacting my revenge."

"Looking forward to it," Steve shoots back.

Danny pulls him in, holds him in place as he thoroughly kisses him. "You."

"Yeah," Steve replies, breathless. "What do you want, Danny?"

"I dunno, what are you willing to give?"

For a moment, they stare at each other, the words heavy between them. Then Steve smiles, brilliantly, kisses him again. At the first touch of Steve's hand on his cock, Danny starts, can't help himself. "Easy, D," Steve says softly, and Danny closes his eyes, gives himself over to the building pleasure, Steve's hand, slowly wringing sparks and sounds from him.

He tips over with Steve's name on his lips, reaches out blindly to find Steve curling around him.

"I've got you, Danny." There's another kiss to the bruise on his face, and Danny opens his eyes.

"Babe," he says softly, and Steve smiles, settles against his side.

Danny wants to keep him there forever.

\--  
 _finis_.


End file.
